We were all on this ship in the sixties, our generation, a ship going to discover the New World. And the Beatles were in the crow’s nest of that ship. - John Lennon
My teen years spanned the tumultuous sixties. I morphed from elementary school to the awkward middle school years and into high school, finally graduating, going off to college and life.
Now I not only remember the sixties, I am in my sixties.
A few days ago I spent a day with a couple of girlfriends driving from southeastern Pennsylvania to the Jersey shore, stopping along the way at a museum we knew we would enjoy but our husbands not so much. We talked, we laughed, we caught up on family, and we sang along with songs blasting from the car radio.
We are 60-something boomers crazy about 60s music. It is our heritage and the music tells our story. With Sirius radio, an option missing from my car, we had the luxury of choosing from a wide variety of stations. Sirius offers stations reaching diverse niche markets - young kids and old kids, news groupies, conservatives, sports fanatics, and music lovers, with stations for almost every type of music imaginable.
We tuned in to a 60s station. The non-stop music evoked mostly wonderful memories of a lively, active time in our lives and the world we grew up in.
We were not friends back then and did not know each other. I grew up in the post-World War II suburbs of Long Island, New York. One friend was raised in Manhattan, New York City, and another grew up in a small Pennsylvania town. We met each other in the PA town where we settled with our families, each of us out of college, married and having babies. Our children were similar ages. We had common interests and our friendship grew.
The songs brought back memories of actual records owned and long disappeared - 45s and albums, when we could afford to buy them. The music and the artists were hauntingly familiar. We knew the words to most of the songs, and would have gotten off our feet and danced if not sitting in the car. We settled for swaying bodies and arms.
We may not have heard a particular song for years, but the lyrics came immediately. It was as if we sung them yesterday.
We might not remember what we ate the day before, but the songs burst forth from our lips quickly, easily, and with gusto. And the time passed quickly.
Before we knew it we reached our destination, and the music stopped.
The message may not move me,
Or mean a great deal to me,
But hey! It feels so groovy to say…
“I did Rock & Roll music!”
--- Peter, Paul and Mary, 1967